i really don’t like ‘pretend’ plants and fake flowers. i don’t care how realistic they are supposed to look – they are just frauds. dust gathering frauds.
however, real flowers, i love. they don’t need to be fancy exotic florist purchased ones. i’m easily made content by wild flowers or a bunch from trader joes.
right now i have a vase full of flowers to my right with hues of purple and yellow, green and bright bursts of orange. it’s so happy. there’s also something about fresh flowers that reminds me of my parents. saturdays were unofficially deemed family gardening day so while my brother mowed the lawn, i would be weeding, or stacking wood, all the time vigilantly avoiding spiders and worms and snails and getting dirty in general. i wasn’t really ‘at one’ with the outside elements in my teens, as i much preferred being holed up in my room reading. i used to get so bored at the nurseries while my parents decided between different strains of roses and admired the shrubery, but now, i find myself doing the same thing. gazing at beautiful vines sprouting purple flowers, and picking lavender from the side of the road, and oohing at organic produce, and just being a garden-enamored geek in general. i don’t know if it’s because our landlord won’t allow us to have plants but now i have this ardent desire to have a garden. to sit under the shade of a tree. to lie in dewy grass. to grow my own herbs and vegetables.
so just add idyllic garden to the ever-growing list of the things the next new abode needs to have.